


The Family Business

by celinamarniss



Series: Legacy [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Thrawn Trilogy - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adopted Children, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Found Families, Gen, Long-Distance Relationship, Running Away to Join a Smuggling Gang, Team as Family, Underage Drinking, smuggling for fun and profit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-04 23:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12781554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celinamarniss/pseuds/celinamarniss
Summary: Babysitting Force-sensitive teenagers is NOT what Talon Karrde signed up for when he became head of an intergalactic criminal organization!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to "Still haven't found what I'm looking for." 
> 
>  
> 
> Previously in the Legacy 'verse: 
> 
> Luke Skywalker died on Bespin during the events of The Empire Strikes Back, leaving behind a pregnant Mara Jade who would give birth to their son, Ben Skywalker. Mara and Ben spent seven years on the run from Darth Vader and the Emperor, before finally facing and defeating the Sith Lords. 
> 
> During her time as a fugitive single mother, Mara worked on and off for Talon Karrde and the two developed a personal relationship as well. After the death of the Emperor, Mara returned to the New Republic and founded in a new Jedi Order. Among her new Jedi are her son and adopted daughter, a Force-sensitive Noghri named Meena. 
> 
>  
> 
> KLCtheBookWorm gave me the idea for this story. Thank you! Thanks also to JediMordSith for providing a few key suggestions.

Karrde stared at the two teenagers seated in front of him in his small office on the _Wild Karrde_. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, as though they might disappear in the space of a blink, and resisted the urge to rub his temples. They were still there when he opened his eyes again. A human boy with a shock of bright red hair and a small Noghri girl stared back at him, practically vibrating with nervous anticipation and adolescent defiance.

“So. You ran away from the Jedi temple on Coruscant—”

“We’re not running away,” Ben Skywalker, only son of Mara Jade, the leader of the New Jedi Order, protested. “We just… left.”

“Without telling your mother?” Karrde raised an eyebrow. “You ran away.”

Ben shifted in his seat, exchanging a glance with his clan cousin. “We’re not doing anything wrong. Mom knows we’re okay.”

"Does your mother know that you've taken her lightsaber as well?" Karrde gave the weapon a pointed look. It was an older model which Karrde knew that she didn't carry anymore.

"Yes," Ben said, scowling at being forced to make an obvious lie. “It’s mine. It was my father’s.”

 _Ah._ Karrde had only known it as Mara’s. Another tidbit of information on the frustratingly close-lipped Jade-Skywalker clan. Karrde had pieced together fragments of information here and there, but even after all these years he was still uncovering new details about Ben’s family history.

“You stole your father’s lightsaber and ran away. I’m surprised you went along with this, Meena.” 

If a Noghri could blush deep red with embarrassment, Karrde imagined that she would, but after a flustered moment she lifted her chin and said in her small, gravelly voice: “I stand by my clan cousin.” She probably wanted to keep on eye on him, but Karrde appreciated her show of loyalty.

“So you ran away,” he continued. “Why did you come to me?”

Ben straightened in his seat. “We thought we could work for you.”

“Why would I possibly go along with that? What made you think I wouldn’t throw you out, or simply send you back to your mother?”

"You're her boyfriend, you have to help us."

"I'm not her boyfriend." He was met with a pair of deeply skeptical expressions.

Though they still enjoyed each other's company, from time to time, he and Mara had made no promises or commitments; they didn't owe each other anything. He was under no obligation to cater to her children, and he was sure that she would see it the same way.

But other the other hand, having known Ben his entire life, he still felt a certain responsibility towards— _unbelievable_.

Karrde ran an expansive organization with a profitable efficiency that he was deeply proud of. He’d been discreetly at the top of his field for nearly twenty years, under the noses of both the Galactic Empire and the New Republic. How was it possible that he was being outmaneuvered by  _teenagers_?

He was too old for this. 

“Fine. Say I allow you to join my crew. What exactly can you offer my organization?”

They straightened up; this was a part of the interview they’d clearly anticipated. "I can fly anything," Ben said. “Starfighters, yachts, anything. I can speak lots of Rim languages, too. We’ve both been trained in Noghri combat techniques. We’re smart and we’re willing to work hard.”

“Hmm.” That was all true. Karrde was well aware of the many skills the Skywalker clan possessed. “What about your _other_ talents?”  

“We’re not circus performers,” Ben bristled. “We came here to work as smugglers.”

His reaction didn’t particularly surprise Karrde. Ben was clearly angling to get away from his Jedi background, a background that attracted certain expectations. He also knew Ben had been raised to keep his skills secret, but that sort of thing tended to get around in a close-knit community on board a ship, and the crew would be curious.

Meena backed up her cousin again: “Master Mara warns us against unnecessary use of Force.” 

Even without their Force-given talents, they could be an asset to his organization, and they were all aware of that fact. That didn't mean that hiring Mara's children was a good decision, but he decided to play along until he could speak to her personally. 

“Very well. But don’t expect any special treatment.” Karrde said. “And another thing: if you’re planning to use my organization as a cover for some Jedi mercy mission, I won’t tolerate it.” 

They protested to having any such ulterior motives, and Karrde believed them. Their motives had the smell of straightforward—if unconventional—teenage rebellion, in which case they wouldn’t be caught dead running errands for their mother. After a few more questions he called Chin into his office and sent them off to find accommodations on the ship. He sent a message to their mother, and it wasn’t long before his holo chimed. 

"Mara," he said, a warmth in his voice that he knew few sentients had ever heard. "It's always a pleasure to see you."

"Ben's with you, isn't he?" Mara didn’t bother with pleasantries. She looked frazzled. 

"He's here, yes, and Meena too. I told them they could stay, but I’ll send them back immediately if that’s what you want.”

Mara considered, clearly weighing the matter for a minute before said: “No, they can stay. If that isn’t an issue with you.”

“I intend to put them to work.” 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she smiled for the first time since she’d picked up the call. “Just don’t let them get picked up for any explicit violations of New Republic law.”

“You underestimate the skill of my organization.”

 _“You’re_ underestimating how much trouble a pair of Force-sensitive teenagers can get into.” Her grin widened, taking on a wicked gleam. “They’re your problem now, Talon.”

Not for the first time, Karrde wondered what he’d gotten himself into.

 

\- -

 

A human named Chin—at least, she thought he was human, he smelled human enough—led them out of Captain Karrde's office and through the maze corridors that ran through the _Wild Karrde_  to empty bunk room. 

“Extra crew sleeps here,” Chin said. “We don’t have much crew on this run, so plenty of room for you, hee?” 

“Thank you,” Meena said. She expected the crewman to leave, but he hovered by the door, looking at them with concern.

“Port Nadir will be cold." Chin eyed the small rucksacks they carried. "Do you have clothes for that kind of weather?” 

Meena shook her head, but Ben said “I do,” which just made her look as though she hadn’t planned well or hadn’t consulted him beforehand, and it stung.

“It will be cold, hai,” Chin insisted. “There are heavy blankets in the lockers.” 

“Thanks,” Ben said.

He left them alone. Meena slid her rucksack under a bunk on one side of the room, as Ben flopped onto a lower bunk on the other side of the room. She sat down on the bottom bunk opposite him.

“I honestly didn’t expect that to work,” Ben said.

“You didn’t? We came all this way and you didn’t expect it to _work?”_

He’d acted as though it was the best and only thing that they could do and she felt a small stab of betrayal at his confession. It felt like she had been trapped in some sort of human whim that she didn’t understand and she couldn’t contain a flash of anger toward him.

From the way Ben’s eyes slid across to her and then darted away, he could feel it. He could usually sense what she was feeling in a general way, but it was a talent that he was never comfortable addressing. Their clan mother said he needed to practice his shielding, but lately he had taken to making a point of not doing anything she told him. He didn’t seem to understand how important it was to obey one’s clan mother!

“I can’t believe you,” she snapped.

He grunted, refusing to meet her eye. He had recently become moody and he mumbled all the time. It annoyed her.

Instead of responding properly, he unclipped the lightsaber from his belt and tossed it into the air. Before gravity could pull it down again, he used the Force to fix it in place and then sent it gently spinning in the space above his hands.

“No one’s in here,” he said when she scowled at him. When they’d discussed their plans for leaving Coruscant he’d insisted that they keep quiet about their Force talents. He’d concealed the lightsaber until they’d reached the _Karrde,_ and then used it to convince the man on watch that they were who they said they were.

It hadn’t been hard to run away from Coruscant. Their clan mother was always busy, and on the day they’d planned to run away she had unexpectedly been called off planet to rescue a Jedi Knight that had been in some sort of trouble. They’d used fake IDs to get off-planet and made their way from spaceport to spaceport to where they’d heard the _Wild Karrde_ was doing business.

Karrde had always been kind to both of them, but he wasn’t  _clan,_ and Meena had doubted that their plan to ask for a place on his crew would work. But it had. Now they were headed to Karrde’s base on the edge of the galaxy to serve as  _smugglers._

She wanted to go home. She wanted to back to Coruscant, back to their apartment in the Jedi Temple, back to their routine, back to training for their knighthood with their clan mother. 

But she couldn’t let Ben go by himself.

“I’m going to meditate,” she said. Ben grunted again, his eyes still fixed on the spinning lightsaber. She turned away from him and closed her eyes.

 

\- -

 

After the Empire’s fall, the Core worlds had gone through a rapid economic and cultural revival with the rise of the New Republic, but those advances had been slow to trickle out to the Outer Rim. The Empire had drained the resources of many Rim planets and the New Republic had been slow to reach further flung worlds, where corruption and the black market still flourished.

Eventually, the New Republic would assert itself across the galaxy and those opportunities would fade; Karrde could read the writing on the wall. His organization would have to adapt into more legitimate avenues, which was one of the reasons he kept relations—a long-term if sometimes informal association—with the New Republic friendly. But for now, his organization thrived in that space between the legal routes and modes of trade and more illicit markets.  

He’d established several different headquarters in the years since the Empire had driven him from Myrkr. Currently, he divided his time between the _Wild Karrde_ and a base of operations at Point Nadir, the shadowport that burrowed into a comet on the Outer Rim, which was home to many illicit businesses. The Hutts no longer controlled the shadowport, which was kept from being completely lawlessness by a small coalition of smugglers, of which he was a member, which allowed him the privilege of docking his ships at the Slips, instead of risking them in the low-level Tethers. 

As soon as they docked the _Wild Karrde_ Aves greeted them with the news that a fuel line had broken the _Drang’s_ starboard storage hold, soaking the hold and requiring a clean-up crew. It was dirty work. The sooner the young Jedi understood that working on a crew could be dirty and unpleasant the better; smuggling wasn't the glamorous escape promised by holodramas. When he ordered them down to fix the line and clean out the hold, Ben gave him a look that said he knew this was a test and that he resented it.

“I'll get right on it, _Dad._ "

 _Force help him._ "I'm not your father."

"Sure, Dad." 

It wouldn’t do for him to cuff a teenager across the back of the head, no matter how much he might want to. He gave Aves a glance and his lieutenant did it for him.

"It's _Captain_ Karrde to you," Aves said, though Karrde saw the way he fought back a grin. “Now get to it.” Ben slouched away, scowling.

" _Is_ he your kid?" Aves muttered after Ben and Meena had disappeared into the hold.

"Stars, _no."_

Aves shrugged apologetically. "I know you're close to his mother, so..."

Aves hadn't joined his organization yet when Karrde had met Mara, and therefore hadn't been present when she had crashed into his life that night on Beris.

“His mother and I are old friends.”

“Yes, boss.” Aves had been around long enough to know that wasn’t entirely true. Karrde and Mara had been less discreet with their assignations after Honoghr, and he could see the logic in assuming that Ben was his son. It was arguably more plausible than fact that some mythical hero of the battle of Yavin had fathered a secret child with the head of the Jedi Order.

“Get back to your post.”

“Right on it, boss.”

 

\- -

 

Port Nadir was colder than any place Meena had ever been. Chin was right; she hadn’t brought the right sort of clothes for the frigid breeze that swept through the alleys of the spaceport and seeped into every room on Captain Karrde’s base. The Captain owned a whole compound of buildings not far from where his ships docked, which included crew quarters, a mess hall, offices, a medical bay, and storage. Lots and lots of storage.

Large shipments of goods from all over the galaxy were shifted in and out of the warehouses, day and night. Luxury goods, pilfered equipment, exotic spirits, medical supplies, and all manner of things passed through the compound on the way to black market dealers on dozens of planets. They didn’t handle hard drugs, slaves, or weapons (at least not anymore, Meena knew that Karrde had sold weapons to the Rebellion before it had become the Republic), but that still left a considerable range of goods that were in demand in places where regulations were tight or prices were high.

She and Ben spent a lot of time in those warehouses during their first month on Port Nadir. She told herself that the work they were being given was fair. It was hard, boring work, but the Captain was only giving them a chance to prove their worth.

She hated it.

She had heard the stories about the time before the Emperor had died, when Ben and their clan mother had sometimes lived in places like Port Nadir, on the edges of society and the law, but she had still been surprised at how quickly he adapted to the Fringe. He’d cut his shaggy hair short, very short on the sides and longer on top, and dressed as the smugglers did, even imitating their accents. He seemed to understand their customs and the slang they spoke, which often left her confused and so frustrated she wanted to snap and growl at them all. 

After a few weeks in the warehouse he’d talked the pilot Dankin into giving him a trial run at the _Wild Karrde’s_ controls, and soon afterward he was moved onto the _Wild Karrde’s_ pilot roster. His shifts at the warehouse were cut down, and she saw less of him in the days that followed.

The change in their shifts meant that she often ate dinner alone, sitting in the corner of the mess hall by herself. It was fine, she told herself as she pushed her vegetables around on her plate, next time she’d just bring something to read... 

“Hey, clan Skywalker!” Lieutenant Aves slapped a datapad down in front of her, beside her half-eaten dinner. “Double check these figures and have them back to me ASAP.”

“Yes, Sir." 

She was used to the crew dumping chores they didn’t want to do on her; that was the job of the lowliest member of a clan. She began to work through the files on the datapad as she finished her dinner. The system the crew used to file information had taken some time to get used to, but after the last few weeks working in the warehouses, she understood it, and there was something satisfying in seeing the numbers all lined up. She worked at the datapad until the mess had cleared for the evening and it was empty by the time she finished. Aves had disappeared for the night. He’d see her results in the morning, but she wanted to show someone what she had found now.

The corridor that led to Captain Karrde’s office was empty, but the green light beside the door told her that he was still working late into the night. She hesitated for a few minutes, building up the nerve to press the chime. 

“Come in, Meena,” he said as the door slid open. “What can I do for you?”

“Aves asked me to check these figures,” she said, sliding the datapad across his desk.

“You can sit, Meena,” he said, not picking up the datapad until she had taken the chair in front of his desk.

As he looked over at the files, he commented, “This is practically busy work,” and continued, in the tone of voice that Meena recognized as the human habit of _thinking out loud,_ “Aves probably thinks of it as hazing.” She wasn’t familiar with that smuggling term. He glanced up at her. “I’m not exactly opposed to my crew testing new recruits, but I suspect that laziness was the motivating factor in this case. What am I looking at, Meena?”

“There are some discrepancies,” she continued. “Here, and here. Our records indicate that the figures shifted at this date stamp.” She indicated the discrepancy. He looked over the datapad to confirm her figures as she waited, clamping down on the impulse to shift nervously in her seat.

“Tofi Sanzar’s been skimming,” he concluded. 

She brought up another file. “He’s also broken every shipping regulation in this sector.”

He looked less impressed with that. “On this side of the law, the greater insult is underestimating my intelligence.”

Meena wasn’t sure she agreed with that logic, but she held her tongue, waiting as he reviewed the figures again. 

“Thank you for bringing this to me,” he said, placing the datapad back onto the desk.

“I am just doing my job, Captain,” she countered. 

He tapped a finger on the side of the datapad, watching her closely.

“I don’t let this sort of thing off lightly,” he said. “Sanzar's ruin will be swift and thorough. He'll be stripped of his assets and of his position in our organization. My slicers will drain his accounts and ensure that his permanent records are marked. It’s unlikely he’ll be able to get off his home planet, let alone find work anywhere in the galaxy.”  

“That is a harsh sentence,” she growled. 

“If we don’t come down hard on thieves, then anyone will think they can steal from us.” 

“We _are_ thieves. Sir.” She might have been overstepping a line, but she was sure that he wasn’t entirely in the right.

The corner of Karrde’s mouth twitched. “There’s a difference between New Republic law and smuggler’s justice. Even thieves have a code that they have to abide by. If we uncover any evidence that Sanzar has been selling information than his life will be forfeit, but if it’s only money that he’s taken then I’m happy to simply ruin him.”

“Yes, Sir.” It wasn’t New Republic Justice or the Jedi way, and she had to remind herself that she was in a very different world now.

“You know, I’ve been considering assigning you to the _Sturm,”_ Karrde said, surprising her. “To partner with the two Noghri on the _Sturm’s_ crew.”

She stiffened, glaring at him before remembering herself and dropping her gaze. “Whatever you think is best, Captain.”

The Noghri on the Strum’s crew—from the Baikh'vair and Khim'bar clans—had been polite, but she knew that in their eyes she was a bizarre and pitiful creature, the Noghri with the human clan. She didn’t want to be looked at like that every day; being the lowliest member of the crew was bad enough.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “You’ll be working here in my office, helping me with any paperwork and processing intel.”

She suddenly felt as though a weight she didn’t even realize she had been carrying had been lifted off of her shoulders. She would be helping her _Captain_ and she could spend all day going through reports instead of being trapped doing tedious labor in the warehouses!

“Thank you, Captain,” she said, feeling brighter than she had in weeks. “I won’t let you down.”

 

\- -

 

After they’d discussed her schedule and he’d sent Meena off to bed, he opened a connection to a private channel. He’d promised to keep Mara updated on her children’s activities as long as they were under his supervision, and their comm calls were something he was beginning to look forward to every week.

As pleased as he’d been to finally find the right place for Meena on his crew, their meeting had left him simmering with anger over Sanzar’s betrayal and the work that would need to be done to restructure his organization. Sanzar’s cut of the profits had always been fair, and Sanzar was aware of that. He didn’t attempt to renegotiate the terms; he decided that he could get away with stealing from Karrde, and that was unacceptable. Sanzar’s network was a complicated one, that crossed into Hapan territory, and Hapes—Hapes was tricky. 

He could transfer Sanzar’s route to Mazzic—no, Mazzic was dead, it was D’ukal’s syndicate now, and it was a semi-legitimate trading company these days, but one that would work with him if he presented her with the right offer. Shada D’ukal was a very capable woman and he had confidence that she’d be able to handle the Hapes route. She had a stricter code moral than he did, and he admired her for it; it also meant that any intel on Hapes that he bought from her in the future would be sound. He’d have to decide exactly what he could offer her and how that would affect his other supply lines.

It was going to be a long night.

Mara would be a welcome distraction before he set about making plans for cleaning up the Sanzar mess. He felt the day’s tension drain away as her image appeared, the pale holo of her face flickering above his desk. She smiled, and though he knew it wasn’t late on Coruscant, she looked tired.

“Long day?” he asked after the usual pleasantries.

Mara nodded. “I spent all day trying to track down a saboteur.”  

“At the Senate?”

“No, here at the Jedi Temple. We’ve had a couple security breaches recently.”

He had to suppress the urge to offer his own people to look into her security issues. That was the New Republic’s job, even though Karrde doubted they could do it as effectively as his people could.

“Thirty years of anti-Jedi propaganda—” She paused, her jaw working as she suppressed a yawn. “Did the damage it was meant to do to public opinion.”

“I thought that had passed,” he said.

Mara had publicly announced the reformation of the Jedi Order a few years after the New Republic had returned to Coruscant, and the Jedi’s return hadn’t been greeted with universal rejoicing. There had been some backlash, a few protests, and lots of nasty rumors. Old reports detailing Mara’s desertion from the Alliance military surfaced in an attempt to discredit her, though the New Republic had officially struck off the charge. He’d made sure that any rumors of her Imperial past had been discreetly and thoroughly silenced, and the furor had died down, with no small help from his agents. Mara was unaware of his hand in controlling the media.

“This isn’t the same,” she said. “I think it’s a new group of fanatics this time—not local, I don’t think.”

“The Temple isn’t in any danger?”

“We can take care of it, Talon,” she said sharply, and then she softened. “You don’t have to worry.”

“I’m only concerned for the safety of the New Republic’s Jedi.”

“Of course,” she said dryly, flashing him a crooked smile. “Aren’t you a little tired of that line?”

She was right, they’d know each other too long for that sort of posturing. “If there’s any sort of danger, I’m concerned for you, Mara.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t make me talk about Jedi business,” she said, waving a hand, “Tell me how Ben and Meena are doing.”

“Ben’s doing well. Dankin’s been training him to fly our ships, and he’s decided that Ben’s ready to co-pilot the _Wild Karrde_ on our next trip out. Ben’s a natural, as you already knew.”

“It runs in the family,” she murmured. 

“I’ve been struggling to figure out what assignment would be the best fit for Meena,” he admitted. “She never complains, but I know she hasn’t been happy on the ground crew." He absently ran a finger along the edge of the datapad Meena had left behind. She had reminded him of Mara that night, sharp and determined. Meena was more reserved than Ben, but she’d definitely picked up that Jade-Skywalker defiance. “But then she came to my office to see me tonight. She uncovered a thief all by herself just by going through the shipping records; it was a very good bit of detective work. I’ve decided to reassign her to my office.”

The smooth running of a not-entirely legal organization depended on extensive, exhaustive planning. One had to know where to fudge the figures and when to bribe inspectors. Karrde knew every trade route, legal or otherwise, by heart, and all of his competitors’ weaknesses and blind spots. He knew what his clients wanted even before they did. He had to predict what the government would think and how they would act, which could be tricky, as governments were unpredictable things and you couldn’t trust them the way you could trust a greedy Hutt or a bounty hunter’s duplicity. On top of that, Karrde had to keep track of a vast amount of sensitive information that crossed his desk, and he didn’t always have time to double-check accounts, which was the reason something like Sanzar’s scam could slip by unnoticed. He had to have people he could rely on, with skills that went beyond simple theft. A reliable assistant that could help manage the vast amount of data that crossed his desk every day would be invaluable. 

Mara chuckled. “She’ll love that. She’ll be much happier doing paperwork than hauling crates around.”

“You could have told me,” he said. 

Mara sighed. “I’m trying to respect the point that Ben was making when he took off this time. I need to let them find their own way.” She raised an eyebrow, in wry acknowledgment of not entirely keeping to that commitment. “With _minimal_ interference.”

“And perhaps make a point of your own?” 

She smiled tartly. “A few.”

“They’re doing well. You don’t have to worry.”

“That’s the thing, Talon, you always worry about your children.”

When she signed off he began to draft a message to D’ukal. Sanzar’s network is a complicated one, that stretched into the borders of the Hapan Consortium, and he would be forced to redraw contracts and renegotiate with the pirates that hunted in Hapan space.

Since the earliest history of the Hapes Consortium, the system had sealed itself off from the wider galaxy and defended its borders with powerful, cutting-edge military forces. The system itself was bounded by an expanse of ionized space, and safe routes through the Transitory Mists that protected the Hapes cluster were fiercely guarded secrets. The Consortium’s isolationist policies gave it an air of mystery, and Hapan luxuries that were smuggled out of the system were always in demand. In return, certain parties in the primarily self-sufficient Consortium were always in the market for specialty items that couldn’t be found within the system itself. The best way to smuggle goods through the system without your ships being raided was to work out a deal with the Hapan pirates themselves, who knew their way through the Mists and past Hapan Military patrols. Karrde had the pull to work with the pirates, unlike smaller private smuggling ships that tried to make the run and fell victim to the pirates. 

Less than a week later he found himself on an asteroid on the edge of the Hapes Cluster so insignificant it had no name, the small collection of structures built on its surface too small to even be called a shadowport. It only existed as a fueling depot and meeting place for the pirates that hunted on the fringe of the cluster and were hunted in turn by the powerful Hapan military. 

Small as it was, the port had several bars that served as places where deals were made and violence was done. Karrde secured a table in the corner to wait for the other parties involved in the negotiation to arrive. H’sishi and Pormfil were planted elsewhere in the bar, and Ben and Meena stood at attention behind his seat.

Meena wore a coat that Chin had made for her that was awkwardly fitted and clearly too large for her. What Chin lacked in any talent for tailoring, he made up for in enthusiasm, and in Meena he had finally found someone willing to wear his creations. He suspected that Meena was under the impression that she was required to wear Chin’s coats, and Karrde wasn’t going to tell her otherwise. 

Ben looked bored.

“Keep your eyes open,” he reminded them. This was meant to be a learning experience, as much as anything else, and he was interested in finding out what they two young Jedi might pick up from the negotiations.

Jonfer Lorell arrived first, a smug grin all over his handsome golden brown face. He sauntered in wearing the arrogance of a man who thought he owned the place. Lorell’s posturing was irritating, but he ran a competent crew and was the most reliable option of all the Hapan pirate captions.

He was accompanied by his lieutenant, a Hapan man with an ugly scar that ran up the side of his face and disappeared under the red bandana he wore, and like Ben and Meena, took his place behind his captain’s seat. Lorell took his chair with an affected nonchalance.

“How’s business?” Karrde greeted him.

“Business is good! It may get better, too. These are unsettled times, my friend, unsettled times.”

Lorell looked over at Ben and Meena and his gaze held on them for a moment longer than was expected for a cursory glance. It was possible he already had some idea who they were; that sort of gossip tended to get around.

Karrde picked up the hint that Lorell had dropped. “Has something happened on the other side of the border?” The man was bursting to tell, that was obvious.

“The Chume’da is dead,” Lorell announced. “Died two nights ago.” Karrde hadn’t heard yet, but the death of the Queen Mother’s son would be all over the quadrant in no time. “Officially it’s an _accident.”_ Lorell spat. “Everyone knows Ta’a Chume was behind it. Poor bastard.”

“The _Queen Mother,”_ his crewman corrected pointedly.

Lorell snorted. “Dnell’s a loyaist.” He jerked his head toward the scowling Dnell. “He’s true to the Queen Mother; the _current_ Queen Mother. He doesn’t like the Chume’da’s wife.”

 _“Nobody_ likes the Chume’da’s wife,” Dnell muttered. Apparently, his loyalty to the Queen Mother didn’t extend to her future heir.

“Me, I think all the Noble Houses can—” Lorell made a rude gesture, to the obvious discomfort of the Dnell. Karrde’s opinion of the man continued to drop. It was unprofessional to mock your crew, particularly in front of strangers.

“But what do I know,” he continued with a smirk. “I’m only a simple pirate.” Lorell gave Ben a theatrical wink. Out of the corner of his eye, Karrde saw Ben blush and fidget, forgetting, for the moment, the disinterested front he’d put on earlier. Huh. The young Jedi appeared to have a bit of a crush. There was no accounting for taste.

“Anyway,” Lorell continued, “the Noble Houses aren’t happy. Might want to check with your bacta suppliers; there might be a jump in demand in the near future.”

Karrde nodded. An unsettled Hapes could bring in profit, or it could cause problems for his routes, it was hard to say at this point. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

“Could be an opportunity to break the government’s supply line. _I_ don’t have the ships or firepower, but _you,_ on the other hand…”

“My organization doesn’t engage in piracy, Lorell,” Karrde reminded him.

Lorell snorted. “Of course not. You're practically a legitimate businessman these days, Karrde. When was the last time you jacked a freighter and spaced the crew?” The pirate's gaze flicked to Ben and Meena. "Always  _were_ in the pocket of the NR," he muttered, just audibly enough for Karrde to hear.

It was an insulting comment, but making a fuss about it would just make Lorell’s point. Karrde let himself shrug, affecting indifference. "I go where the profit goes. My business practices are not what we’re here to discuss anyway...”

He was saved any further debate by the arrival of the third party, gliding into the bar with her usual deadly grace. D’ukal dressed more conservatively these days than she did when she was simply Mazzic’s bodyguard, but Karrde had no doubt that she still carried a high number of concealed weapons on her person. She appeared to be alone, though Karrde suspected that she had also planted her crew in the bar ahead of time.

Ben shifted where he stood, refolding his arms. Karrde caught the movement of his hand, his fingers folded in a quick signal: _third right_ , indicating that the third woman from the right at the bar was D’ukal’s plant. Ben was paying closer attention than he let on.

D’ukal’s presence was a test, as much as a meeting was a test for how Ben and Meena handled themselves. Hapan pirates crews consisted primarily of men who had fled the Consortium’s strictly enforced gender and caste system, and many of them wouldn’t work with women. Lorell covered his surprise fairly well through the introductions, and acted unbothered by her gender, though perhaps a little too obviously.

The negotiations began: determining which ships in Karrde’s fleet would be smuggling goods through Hapan Space under the protection of Lorell’s pirates, what Lorell’s cut of the profits would be, where those ships would meet D’ukal’s freighters, in which Inner Rim markets D’ukal would sell the Hapan luxuries, and what goods she would ship back in return. Meena followed the negotiations with an expression of intense concentration on her face; Ben watched Lorell while trying to appear not to.

Bargains made and sealed, Lorell loudly called for a round of drinks, but didn’t linger long after the toasts had been drunk.

“Karrde,” Lorell gave him a nod, “Always a treat. D’ukal, it’s been a real pleasure. Your ships are safe with us. Now I’m going to go somewhere I can get a _real_ drink.” He sauntered off again.

“The consolidation offer still stands,” Karrde said to D’ukal after Lorell had left. He wished he had poached D’ukal back when Mazzic was still alive. Aves had always been a competent Second, but he lacked imagination and ambition, and Karrde would have preferred to leave his organization in the hands of a woman like her. If only circumstances had been different... 

“It’s a generous offer,” she said coolly. “I still prefer to keep my business independent.”

“Very well then,” he said. “I look forward to doing business with you in the future.” 

“She doesn’t like you very much,” Ben said as they watched her leave the bar.

“I was somewhat responsible for the death of her employer,” he said. Meena and Ben looked intrigued, but the thought of rehashing old war stories just made him tired. “That’s a story for another time. Let’s get back to the ship.”

 

\- -

 

The rain on Delrakkin came down in heavy sheets, cloaking the spaceport and the surrounding area in a grey gloom despite it being mid-day when the _Wild Karrde_ made landfall. 

It didn’t rain on Port Nadir, but this time Meena had been prepared and bought a large rain jacket before they left. Standing to her right, in an even larger rain jacket that still somehow hadn’t managed to keep her fur dry, a foul-tempered H’sishi growled to herself as they guided the droids unloading a shipment out of the _Karrde's_ bay and into the spaceport. H’sishi did not like rain.

The spaceport itself was a collection of buildings and wide open spaces for stacking the crates of goods moving in and out of the port, all under the shelter of a large roof. The roof didn’t extend to the tarmac where the ships docked and so anyone disembarking and unloading shipments was drenched in seconds.

“This isn’t even the rainy season!” she reminded H’sishi. “In a few months the storms will be so bad they have to close the spaceport.”

H’sishi responded with a series of growls that were probably extremely vulgar in Togorian. 

Meena looked around the spaceport with interest. She had taken advantage of Captain Karrde’s vast library of planetary information to read everything she could about the planet before they’d arrived. The records went into great detail where it concerned shipping regulations (and how to subvert them), but buried in the records she’d found a reference to a Rebel mission on Delrakkin carried out by Ben’s father. She filed away the info, intending to ask her clan mother the story someday.

The last crate unloaded, they crossed the tarmac to the spaceport building to join the rest of the crew. Captain Karrde and Aves were somewhere in the spaceport complex negotiating with customs and meeting contacts, and Meena knew from prior experience that they might not see them again until they left the planet. She knew from her work in Karrde’s office that the intelligence he picked up at spaceports like this one was just as important as the cargo they traded. He had hinted that he might pick up some interesting intel and Meena was cheered at the thought that when this mission was done she would have fresh files to catalog. It sounded worlds better than hauling crates around in the rain. 

Meena followed H’sishi as she took a left into the section of the spaceport filled with shipping crates. The containers were stacked in long rows, and came from all over the galaxy, filled with goods waiting to be shipped across the planet or elsewhere in the Outer Rim. There was something like a lounge on the other side of the maze of containers, a collection of seats and benches and large heaters blowing hot air. On one end of the makeshift lounge was a booth selling drinks.

H’sishi flipped down her hood and shook out her sodden fur, earning a chorus of curses from the nearest set of chairs. Meena found a seat and hunched in front of one of the large heaters. Around her, the rest of the crew settled in among the other spacers and attempted to dry off a bit before they were scheduled to reload the ship with new inventory.

“Hey, guys!” Ben bounded across the lounge toward them. “Look what I bought!” He gestured toward the large, bright orange hat he wore. “Keeps the rain out of your face. And that guy over there,” he gestured toward a reptilian local. “Told me it would let up soon.”

“Hey, Skywalker,” Dankin called over to Ben. “Smuggler’s code says you buy your pilot his first and last drink of the mission. Ask for Inner Rim Delight.”

“I don’t think that’s a real thing,” Meena muttered to Ben in Noghri. Somehow it sounded like a dirty joke, and the crew had pulled such tricks on her and Ben before. Apparently, it was part of the smuggler’s tradition called “hazing.”  

He ignored her. “Sure thing, boss,” he said and rushed off again.

[How is that human so cheerful?] H’sishi grumbled. [Is he part Mon Calamari?]

“I don’t know,” Meena mumbled. “Humans are weird.”

H’sishi huffed a laugh. [Well said.]

Ben had a triumphant look on his face when he returned. “They didn’t have the other thing,” he said, which meant she was probably right about it being a joke. “I got them to make you a Triple-layer Black Nebula.”

Dankin looked impressed as he took the glass.

Meena looked up in surprise as Ben handed her the other cup he’d been carrying. The smell of hot dantoo tea wafted out of the container.

“Thank you,” she sighed, inhaling the bitter scent. Ben plopped down on a nearby seat and began to describe a piloting maneuver he'd apparently used on their last flight with enthusiasm and lots of hand gestures. Meena only gave it half of her attention. 

A lightning bolt struck the roof of the spaceport with a deafening crack, and all the lights went out. Indignant shouts rang out through the spaceport as the entire space was plunged into darkness. 

“Pipe down,” a voice in the dark called. “Power always comes back on in a couple of minutes. They got generators for that kind of thing.”

Sure enough, the lights flickered back on again. They flared brightly and then wavered as though they might fail again, but the power stayed on this time.

Dankin was on his feet. “H’sishi, clan Skywalker, with me.” 

They followed him over to the Karrde’s shipment. “Power surges on this planet can fry all sorts of electronics,” Dankin explained as they made their way through the stacks of crates. Considering that all shipping crates were sealed with electronic locks and many included environmental controls to preserve quality, failed electronics could be a major problem. They weren’t the only ones that headed over to check their shipments.

“This is why Karrde always shells out for higher quality seals,” he continued. “The locks are better too, so we lose less to sticky-fingered customs agents—”

He cut off as the ominous crackle of failing electronics came from somewhere nearby, and the three of them turned to see a shower of sparks burst from a row of large crates. 

“See?” Dankin said. “That’s what you get with cheap… _shavit.”_ There was the sound of scratching and a thump from the nearest crate.

[Those crates are carrying live cargo.] H'sishi said slowly. 

Further down the line, the door of a crate popped open and a sleek four-legged creature stepped out. It clacked a horned beak in their direction and slunk out of its crate and into the narrow alley between shipments, its long ears twitching. Tufts of hair ran along its back and down a long, whip-like tail.

The other crates cracked open and more of the creatures spilled out into the narrow alley between the crates, long bodies jostling for space and claws  _click-click-clicking_ on the metal floor. The first of the animals to emerge began to stalk toward them, an aggressive growl rumbling from its throat as its tail whipped from side to side.

“Kriff!” Dankin said. He fired his blaster, aiming the bolts above the creatures in order to scare them off, not injure, and it worked: the animals scattered into the maze of crates, darting off in every direction.

[Kriff,] H’sishi echoed, and Meena agreed.

There were screams from the direction of the lounge. “Not friendly, whatever they are,” Dankin said.

Meena ran over to one of the now-empty crates. The digital readouts that monitored the creature were dead, but relevant information about the crate’s origin and destination, along with species name, were printed on the side.

“They’re called anoobas,” she said. “They come from Tatooine.”

[They are someone’s cargo, so set your blasters to stun,] H’sishi said.

Dankin grunted and adjusted his blaster.

“I don’t have a blaster,” Meena reminded them. She had her knives, and no Noghri was ever defenseless, but she didn’t have a blaster.

[Behind me,] H’sishi said.

Meena followed the Togorian through the lines of crates back to the lounge, Dankin covering their backs. They found the lounge in disarray, the chairs and heating units knocked over and scattered across the open space. One of the anoobas was standing on a chair, tearing out the webbing with its horned beak. Four more were pacing around and between the scattered furniture.

The spacers were huddled at the far end of the lounge, backed up against the drinks booth. From the occasional cursing and moans of pain, she guessed a few of the spacers had been injured in the initial attack, but it didn’t look as though any of the injuries were fatal.

Ben stood between then and the restless anoobas, his lightsaber held out in warning. The creatures held back, wary of the weapon, but circled closer, looking for an opening. The largest anooba made a break for Ben, who shifted his lightsaber back and lifted his other hand.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Ben called, his tone cajoling. “We’re not prey. Not prey.” To her senses, his voice was heavy with Force suggestion. The anooba stopped, skidding to a sudden halt a few feet from Ben, and tilted its head this way and that before awkwardly backing up, sidling away from the huddled group of humans and aliens.

Meena heard Dankin mutter an awed curse under his breath. The anoobas watched Ben curiously, but they didn't attack him again, even as he moved closer, trying to reach the spacers huddled at the bar. One of the spacers, having gotten over the initial shock, lowered his blaster at the creatures and began to fire haphazardly at the anoobas. 

“No, wait—” Ben shouted.

H’sishi yowled angrily as one of the bolts hit a crate near their heads.

The anoobas scattered. Ben went charging after them, and Meena and H’sishi followed. No longer pinned down, other spacers joined the hunt. 

It didn't even occur to Meena that, without a blaster, she never should have joined the hunt; she should have sought cover or hidden in the main customs building. She stayed close to H'sishi's side as the Togorian stalked through the maze of containers. 

At first, the hunt was a scene of chaos, as some of the spacers fired wildly into the maze, others tripped over each other and the bodies of a few unlucky anoobas who had been hit, and the entire area echoed with shouting and the howls of angry and frightened animals. Eventually, a few seasoned spacers who knew the building well began to take charge, the group was arranged to flush the anoobas out of the crate maze and into the opening between cargo and the tarmac. The first anooba to dart out into the rain leapt back under cover again with an indignant screech, but as the spacers began firing at them, the bolder creatures in the pack began to escape out onto the downpour. 

Meena followed her crewmates out into the rain. It was instantly clear that herding the creatures into the rain had been a mistake. The downpour made visibility poor beyond a few feet. She could make out the vague shapes of ships and shadowy glimpses of fast-moving annobas darting among them, too fast for H’sishi to track them accurately with her blaster. Ben and Dankin disappeared entirely into the gloom. 

She heard Ben shout “Meena!” at the same time her danger sense tingled, and she ducked as an anooba sailed over her head, landing just past her, large clawed feet scrabbling on the slick ground. It barely twisted aside to avoid H’sishi’s stun blast and vanished again in the rain. The Togorian hissed and ran blindly after it.

“Wait!” Meena shouted before she lost sight of H’sishi, who paused and turned back. She reached out to the Force, allowing it to expand her consciousness out until she could sense the anoobas, their wild alien minds distinct in the shrouded landscape. 

“Follow me!” She ran toward the animal’s signature, and as soon as it was in range she pointed. “Over there!” H’sishi’s stun bolt hit the animal, which went down with a yelp and then was quiet. “This way!” They worked their way across the tarmac, taking out two more creatures. In the distance, she could hear the reports of Dankin’s blaster and sensed another creature go down.

“Hold back,” she hissed to H’sishi, and they paused behind an abandoned container.

She could see a flash of blue cutting through the sheets of rain, blurring in the air as Ben raced across the tarmac, the final anooba on his heels. As they came within range, he slipped on the rain-soaked tarmak and went down, sliding across the ground. The anooba barked in triumph as it leapt towards its prey, and took a series of stun blasts right in the chest as Dankin and H’sishi fired, its body collapsing onto the ground with a splash.

“Ha!” Ben said as he pushed himself up. “Good shot!”

“Everyone alright?” Dankin said. He was limping slightly, as though he’d twisted his ankle. Ben had skinned his chin when he’d taken the spill on the tarmac, but was otherwise uninjured. “Let’s get the kriff out of this rain.”

As soon as they made it under the cover the spaceport roof, Dankin sat heavily onto a crate and H’sishi leaned against a larger container. Meena dropped onto the ground, sitting with her back against the same crate as H’sishi.

[I have never seen a laser sword before,] H’sishi said.

“Yeah, that was  _wicked,”_ Dankin said.

Ben slid a guilty look in Meena’s direction. There was no way to take it back now, and they'd both used the Force in front of their crewmates, even if Ben's lightsaber was more memorable. But Meena thought that her clan mother would have approved of their use of the Force to help keep their crewmates and the other spacers from danger. 

“I wouldn’t just use it any time…” Ben said. 

“Kriff, no,” Dankin laughed. “Keep that thing in reserve for the next set of monsters we have to put down.” 

[We will let you get first shot at them next time,] H’sishi chuckled.

It wasn’t particularly funny, but the three of them laughed together. 

“I owe  _you_ a drink, Skywalker,” Dankin said. _“Both_ of you.”

“Charge it to the ship’s account.” They all looked up as Karrde approached.

“Did you see what they did, boss?” Dankin ask. He sounded proud of them!

Karrde nodded. “Security footage.”

Dankin snorted. “They can’t even keep their lights on but the security footage doesn’t go out!”

“An animal control crew is on its way to clean up the creatures,” Karrde said. “Well done, all of you.”

[We were only doing what we could,] H’sishi said, and Meena agreed. She didn’t quite know what to do with her Captain’s quiet approval.

“We have a shipment to load but the rest of the crew will cover it,” Karrde said. “Spend some time getting dried off and warmed up. And Dankin, make sure they both have blasters before they leave the ship next time.” 

“Will do, boss.”

As Karrde turned back toward the spaceport, Meena sprung to her feet. “Do you need me to come with you?” She couldn’t shirk her other duties.

Karrde looked surprised. “Of course not, Meena. Go with your crewmates.” 

“Yeah, c’mon clan Skywalker,” Dankin said. 

H’sishi put a large furred paw on her shoulder. [You did well. Now we all need to clean up and demand large bowls of soup from the cook.]

“Hey,” Ben said as they headed back to the _Wild Karrde_. “Did anyone see what happened to my hat?”


	2. Chapter 2

Odana Prime had been a middling world in the order of the Empire, had never seen any major action in the war, and had transferred its allegiance to the New Republic with minimal fuss after the Empire had fallen. For centuries it had never held much power or influence in the galaxy, but in the last three years it had experienced a recent financial resurgence with the appointment of a new governor, a distinguished war hero who had made a name for himself in the New Republic as a man who could bring organizations back from the brink and figure out what would make them thrive again. As such, the man and his planet were of interest to Karrde, who was considering locating one of his trading companies there, in order to keep an eye what profit could be made in the sector. 

Negotiating contracts on Odana Prime went a little differently than they did in the Hapan Fringe. Business was conducted in government offices and over respectable cups of caff, rather than in seedy bars over shots of questionable but potent liquor. It meant making nice with a certain class of people that didn’t always deign see eye-to-eye with smugglers: legitimate businessmen. It also meant dealing with wily government officials, and sometimes the person you had to negotiate with was someone who was both, such as Governor of Odana Prime.

Lando Calrissian.

"Yeah, I know him," Ben said when Karrde enquired. "He's a friend of my aunt and uncle." He hesitated, with the air of someone who just wanted an invitation to tell a secret that they probably shouldn’t. Karrde was always happy to oblige, making an encouraging gesture.

"Mom doesn't like him, but she won't tell me why.” He went on, eager to share family gossip, “I overheard Uncle Han say something once and I think it had to do with my father."

Karrde had dug up any reports he could find on Luke Skywalker after he'd learned who Ben's father had been. He did the math."Your father died at Bespin when Calrissian was the administrator there, didn't he?"

"Uh-huh."

Ah. At the very least, Mara would associate the man with the place where Ben’s father had died. At the worst…

"Will this be an issue?"

Ben shrugged. "He seems nice when he visits Aunt Leia and Uncle Han."

They left it at that.

Calrissian arranged reservations at a private club in the glitzier section of Odana Prime’s capital city, and his message to Karrde encouraged him to bring Ben and Meena, implying that whatever business would be discussed over dinner would be masked by the trappings of a social call. It also confirmed that Carissian was well-informed enough to assume that Ben and Meena were accompanying Karrde, though perhaps Organa-Solo had told him. The Governor had never bothered to cover up his less-than-reputable past; perhaps because it gave his redemption as a war hero of the New Republic extra shine.

Most of Karrde’s business with the New Republic had been facilitated by Mara, and in spite of his many years dealing with both the Alliance and the current administration, Karrde had never met Calrissian before, but man was exactly as he’d come to expect from the stories he’d heard. He even had the cape. It was a deep purple, and it looked expensive.

He was trailed by two pre-teen girls. The smaller of the two had freckles and a halo of tight black curls, her brown skin a few shades lighter than the taller girl, whose dark hair was pulled back in a tight looped braid. So Mara wasn't the only hero of the New Republic with a penchant for adopting war orphans.

Calrissian greeted them warmly, his famous charm in full effect to dazzle his guests, a winning smile plastered across his face. “I’m surprised we’ve never met before,” he said as he shook Karrde’s hand.

“We haven’t been running in the same circles,” Karrde pointed out amicably.

“Ben, Meena, you remember Leika and Solland,” he presented the two girls, who exchanged awkward hellos with Ben and Meena.

Calrissian had secured a private room in the club and led them to a finely dressed table where a pair of serving droids were laying out a lavish meal. It was a striking contrast to the dingy asteroid bar where they’d held their last negotiations, a contrast that he hoped the young Jedi appreciated. It was the sort of place he pictured Jedi doing business, among the political elite, not the dregs of the galaxy.

The food was excellent, and Ben and Meena dug in with the undisguised enthusiasm that weeks on shipboard rations and cafeteria food inspired. Solland kept looking down at the datapad she had in her lap under the table, and Leika played with her food. The conversation drifted at first from topic to topic, Calrissian keeping the talk deliberately light. He spoke with Ben and Meena about their family and mutual acquaintances back on Coruscant, exchanging the latest gossip from their circle of friends. 

Once it became clear that Mara wasn’t going to demand that they return home, the teenagers had agreed to keep in contact with her via holo, and they were happy to pass on the news she’d shared with them, stories about their cousins and the rest of the Solo clan. They were even more eager to tell him about their recent adventures.

“—that was before we went to Hapes,” Ben was saying. “Though we didn’t actually _go_ to Hapes, just to this asteroid outside the Transitory Mists—”

“You said you’d take us to Hapes!” Leika, the younger of the two Calrissian girls, said suddenly. 

“I did, sweetheart, but it’s not a good place for nice young ladies right now,” Calrissian said. 

“I’m _not_ a nice young lady!” Leika said.

Her older sister rolled her eyes.

“It isn’t a good place for _anyone_ right now,” he insisted. “Especially Jedi.” He shot a pointed glance at Ben and Meena. It was true that although the previous Queen Mother had distanced herself from the Empire, she had enthusiastically embraced the regime's anti-Jedi policies. Ta’a Chume, as far as he knew, hadn’t continued her mother’s practices, but things might have changed. 

“What have you heard?” Karrde asked.

Calrissian’s eyes flicked around the room with the habit of a man used to watching for eavesdroppers even though he knew the room was secure.

“It’s... not good news. The Chume’da’s wife was poisoned by the Queen Mother. Ta’a Chume still holds the throne for now, but...” He spread his hands in a _who knows_ gesture. 

“It’s being said she was responsible for the Chume’da’s death as well,” Karrde said.

Calrissian hummed thoughtfully. “I have a different take on that. It wasn’t in Ta’a Chume’s interests to kill the Chume’da, even if they were on bad terms. He was her last son, and she’ll be perceived as weak without an heir by blood. It happened on Bottan, too. If it had happened on Keffrin, or Ryst, I would wonder, but Bottan’s fanatically loyal to the royal family. I think that it was one of the other Noble houses, or maybe it was an accident after all.”

“You’re very well informed,” Karrde told him. Calrissian was sharper than he expected. 

“Ah, well, it always pays to keep up with what’s going on in the galaxy,” Lando said, with clearly false modesty. “I’ve heard you’re a well-informed man yourself.”

“I have an interest in current events,” Karrde said drily. “That’s what led me to decide to invest in Odana Prime.”

“I was pleased to hear that!” Calrissian said. “You’ve got a reputation as a man who strikes a fair bargain. Leia always speaks well of the work you did with the Alliance.”

Karrde had no doubt Calrissian knew exactly what other business he did, and he didn’t doubt that man would take measures to ensure the company he installed on planet toed the line. That was to be expected. 

“You’ve done a remarkable job on Odana Prime,” Karrde said. “The sort of work that gets you noticed for more prestigious positions. Do you have your eye on becoming the Chief of State someday?” It didn’t hurt to do a little fishing.

Calrissian laughed. “Oh, I’m perfectly happy doing what I can here. Odana Prime keeps me busy. I have no ambition to become a Core-politico.”

He saw Meena stiffen. She glanced over at Ben, who shifted uncomfortably and looked away.

Calrissian went on. “My ties with Coruscant are purely personal; old Alliance friends, as you know. We keep in touch, as you know, but I have no political sway in the New Republic—”

“What is it, Meena?” Karrde asked. 

“He is _lying,”_ she said quietly. 

The room went silent. Ben caught his eye and gave a slight nod confirm her accusation. Karrde winced inwardly. He’d have to remind her to keep that sort of thing to herself until their post-meeting debriefs, no matter how charming and familiar their contact appeared to be. 

Calrissian, to his benefit, never let his amiable facade entirely slip off his face. He laughed again, shaking his head. “Jedi,” he said. “You can’t put one past them, can you?” 

“I trust their assessment of anyone’s character.” 

“I didn’t have any intention of insulting you, Karrde,” Calrissian said. “But my dealings with the New Republic are classified.”

That… wasn’t entirely unexpected. “I completely understand,” Karrde assured him. 

“You know, we could use a man like you, with your perspective and contacts. There’s a woman in the NRI—Iella Antilles—who would love to talk to you.”

“If the NRI wants me, they know how to contact me,” Karrde said coldly.

“Yeah,” Lando said, glancing over at the two Jedi.

Calrissian steered the conversation back into safer waters, and his expression was still warm as he shook Karrde’s hand when they made their farewells. “Be sure to stop by the next time you’re in the system,” he said. “Bring the kids.”

“Did you _see_ that cape?” Ben asked as they stepped into the turbolift that led out of the club.

“It was a very expensive cape,” Meena agreed.

“He was trying to impress us,” Karrade said. “It’s a useful tactic in certain situations.”

“Like a shula bird distracting you from its nest with a really impressive cape,” Ben said.

"On my planet, we would say..." the diminutive alien continued in the growling tongue of the Noghri, a proverb that was lost on him.

Ben burst out laughing, continued laughing, and then tipped over and collapsed to the floor, still in hysterics.

Meena looked down at her cousin and then up at Karrde. "It's very funny in the original language."

"You don't say.” He looked down at Ben, tempted to nudge the hysterical teenager with the toe of his boot. “How much did you have to drink?”

Ben eventually regained control of himself and staggered to his feet again. “Whatever, _Dad.”_

Meena giggled and then looked surprised at herself, darting a nervous look at Karrde.

Karrde repressed an exasperated sigh. He hoped they’d learned  _something_ from the meeting. “I want to see you both in my office in the morning.”

Ben bumped Meena’s shoulder with his own and they both started giggling again. Karrde let the sigh escape. He wouldn’t be getting anything productive out of either of them the rest of the night. 

 

\- -

 

Meena carefully balanced a tall stack of data cards in her arms as she made her way down the hall to Karrde’s office. She had spent the morning collecting and compiling dossiers from the ships in Karrde’s fleet that had reported in that week. There were a _lot_ of ships under Karrde's command, and the stack towered perilously above her arms. She had to shift the pile slowly, with an awkward shuffling of her arms, as she hit the entry button and moved into his office. Karrde was sitting behind his desk, absorbed in a datapad as she entered and crossed the room, dumping the stack on a side table.

“The _Starry Ice’s_ report on the situation on—” Her voice failed her as she stared at his desk. 

A heavy blast-proof box sat on one end of his desk, and next to it—Meena shuddered, her skin crawling and heart beginning to race—was a triangular metal-worked object that glowed with a dull red light.

Karrde followed her fixed gaze.

“It arrived this morning,” he said. “The contact who sold it to me claims that it was a Jedi artifact, though I can’t come up with any references that back up his claim. If it is, I’ll send it along to your clan mother, but if not, I’m sure Mirax Terrik can find a buyer.”

“It’s _Sith,”_ Meena said, her voice barely scratching out of her throat. “It wasn’t made by the Jedi, it’s a Sith holocron. It’s… _horrible._ It needs to be destroyed.”

His brow furrowed as he stared at her. “Are you sure about that?” 

“Yes!” She’d shrunk back, nearly wedging herself in the corner of the office. “It  _reeks_ of the dark side. It’s—it’s...”

Karrde reached across his desk and hit the comm button. “Dankin, can you find Skywalker and send him to me?”

“Don’t need to, boss,” Dankin’s voice crackled through the comm. “He just got this weird look on his face and went running for your office.”

Karrde looked over at her, an eyebrow raising. Meena couldn’t even look directly at him; looking away from the holocron felt impossible. 

Ben came bursting through the door a few minutes later. “Meena! What’s going—”

His mouth dropped open as he caught sight of the holocron. He skidded to a stop and then backed a few steps away from the desk.

“Ben,” Karrde said, “Meena says that this artifact is some sort of—holocron? A dark Jedi holocron?”

“And you didn’t believe her?” Ben’s voice cracked.

“I wanted a second opinion—” Karrde began.

“Why? She wouldn’t lie about that! Why didn’t you believe her?”

Karrde looked taken aback for a moment, staring back at Ben. There was a long moment as Ben glared back, his fists clenching and his body stiff as though he were wavering between fleeing the room and leaping toward the desk. He smelled frightened and _angry._

Karrde broke eye-contact with Ben to look over to where she huddled in the corner of the room, and then his expression shifted, hardened. He stood and pulled a blaster out of his desk, placed the Sith artifact back into the box and then fired his blaster point blank at the object.

Meena flinched and saw Ben do the same. She would swear that she head distant scream of rage as the artifact shattered. 

There was a moment of silence after the loud report of the blaster. 

“I’m sorry, Meena,” Karrde said. “I should never have given you the impression I doubted you.”

She stared at the smoke curling out of the box. It was gone. Destroyed. 

As the power of the holocron faded she could see Ben's shoulders sag slightly as he left out a breath, tension draining from his frame. 

“You’re still not shielding enough!” Meena burst out, surprising herself.

“I was watching out for you!” Ben shouted back. 

“You don’t take anything our clan mother says seriously!” She realized that she’d switched into Nogrhri. “You don’t take anything seriously!”

From where she stood she could see Karrde’s face, his expression surprised and confused. She’d never seen him look like that before, and it made her uncomfortable.

“I do! That’s not fair, you know that’s not fair!” He was accusing _her_ of not being fair—!

They both jumped as Karrde shut the box on his table with a snap. “That’s enough.”

Together they stared at the closed box. The holocron’s power had been broken, but it had left an impression on the Force like a greasy stain.

Ben snatched up the box and stormed out of the room. She let out a breath, feeling something ease inside her, knowing that he would make sure that whatever remained in the box was completely destroyed.

When she looked back at Karrde he still seemed at a bit of a loss, staring at the door. Then he turned and addressed her. “I apologize for that, Meena. I—I’ve known your mo—your clan mother for a long time, but don’t know much about how the Force works. I’ve never seen something like that before.”

She nodded, unsure what to say to him. 

“D’ukal sent me a file on the adjustments she’s made to the Hapan trade route,” he said after a pause. “Would you look it over and report back to me?”

She nodded, relief rushing in. She really _liked_ organizing intel reports.

“Thank you, Meena.”

“You’re welcome, Captain.”

 

\- -

 

The week the _Starry Ice_ reported in at Point Nadir coincided with a winter festival on her Captain’s home planet, and Captain Faughn invited everyone to celebrate in one of the Port’s bars, the festivities intended to last all night. The crew of the _Starry Ice,_ the _Wilde Karrde,_ and the sister ships _Drang_ and _Sturm_ were all in attendance, all packed into the best bar Port Nadir had to offer, which wasn't saying much in the rough shadowport town. 

Karrde didn’t often carouse with his crew. When did attended one of crew’s celebrations, he would choose a quiet corner and make it clear that his employees were not required to socialize with their boss. It was their time to cut loose, and he didn't want to impose or give the newer crew members the impression that they had to entertain him in order to curry favor. Chin or Aves or one of the older members of the crew would eventually join him if they hadn’t found company of their own. 

The party was already well underway when he arrived. Faughn and her girlfriend were holding court at one of the larger tables with most of the _Starry Ice’s_ crew, and the crew of the _Wild_ _Karrde_ and the _Drang_  and _Sturm_ filled most of the surrounding tables. There was a loud dance floor at the other end of the bar, which seemed to be packed with the entirety of Port Nadir’s younger crowd, writing together to a pulsing beat. He caught glimpses of Ben, among the dancers, wrapped around a pretty girl in the middle of the dance floor. 

It took him longer to find Meena. She had tucked herself into a small booth in a quieter corner of the bar, not far from where Chin and Dakin sat arguing over a card game. She sat by herself, hunched over her drink, her posture communicating clearly how little she wanted to be there. He bought a drink and made his way across the crowded room to her booth.

“May I join you, Meena?”

“Yes, Captain,” she said, blinking up at him in surprise.

He slipped into the booth opposite her. He took a sip of his drink and then and placed it on the table, the glass making a faint click as it met the metal of the table, and then folded his hands, studying his companion. 

“What’s wrong, Meena?”

Meena looked down at her glass, then across the floor where her cousin was dancing. He was sure it was no coincidence that this particular booth had a good view of the dance floor. 

"I don't want to be a smuggler," she finally said, miserably, her teeth clicking together.

So that was what was bothering her.

“What would you like to do, Meena?”

She stared down at her glass for a few minutes before she said in a hushed voice, as though she were imparting a deep secret never spoken aloud before, "I want to be a great Jedi like my clan mother." 

“I’m sure you will be one day,” he said.

She looked doubtful. “I was Meen’akbak No Clan before she took me in as her apprentice,” she confessed heavily. _“No Clan._ I was _nothing._ Now I’m _Meena clan Skywalker,_ ” she said with a sort of awe. “I _owe_ her for all that she’s done for me.”

“Mara doesn’t think of it that way,” Karrde said. It bothered him that her clan’s caste system had made her think so little of herself. If she could get over her insecurities he had no doubt she would follow Mara’s footsteps. “You’re her clan daughter now and you don’t owe her a debt. She’s already proud of you.”  

“Did she tell you this?” Meena asked.

“She didn’t have to, Meena, it’s obvious that Mara’s always been proud of you.” She still looked doubtful, her dark eyes watching him closely. “Is that the only reason you want to be a Jedi?” He asked.

She shook her head. “What the Jedi do is important. I want to help other refugees and bring justice to the galaxy. I want to be a _Jedi!_

“I like working for you,” she amended quickly, as though afraid her revelation might somehow offend. “I like organizing your files, and studying the intel reports! But...” Frustration leaked into her voice. “I _don’t_ want to steal shipments and cheat inspectors. I didn’t want to come here at all. I _don’t_ understand why we had to do this.”

She glared over at where her cousin stood in the middle of an animated conversation with a knot of young people at the edge of the dance floor, face flushed and arm still slug around the girl from earlier. 

“It’s a human thing, I think,” Karrde said. “Some human teenagers need a period of time to rebel against their parents.” 

Meena looked horrified at the very concept.

“They act out, and go off on their own, and drink too much. They just have to get it out of their system. It’s a phase. He’ll grow out of it.”

He believed it too. If Ben didn't get himself killed doing something stupid first, which wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility, Karrde was sure that he'd follow his mother's footsteps as well.

As they watched, a Rodian, older and taller than Ben, shoved the teenager’s shoulder. Ben shouted something unintelligible over the music, and the Rodian shoved him again, nearly knocking him over. Ben lunged for the alien, but caught the fist of a burly woman coming to the Rodian’s aid. He went down but scrambled quickly to his feet again. He dodged a blow from a Bith, throwing himself into a fight in which he was outnumbered by at least four other opponents.

Meena sprung to her feet, a wicked-looking knife in her hand.

“No need, Meena. I’ll take care of it.” He signaled to Dankin, who sighed, put down his ale, and waded into the fray to collect Ben. 

Meena stayed by his side but kept the knife in her hand as they watched Dankin dragged Ben free of the chaos. At a nod from Karrde he hustled the boy toward the exit. Meena started to move after them but Karrde put a hand on her shoulder.

“Let me take care it tonight, Meena,” he said. To cut off her protests, he said, “Chin will need someone to get him home safely. Can I count on you to keep him from being robbed blind before he makes it back?” Better to give her something to do than order her to stay and enjoy herself.

“Yes, Captain.” She didn't seem too happy with the command, but she didn't argue. 

He was nearly to the compound’s medical center when he passed Dankin leaving.

“Anything broken?” he asked.

“Nah, the kid’s fine. Bruised ribs are the worst of it. The medic is patching up the scrapes now.”

Annowiskri was just finishing up with the bacta patches as Karrde entered the medical center and passed on the same information that Dankin had relayed before Karrde dismissed him to speak with Ben alone.

He folded his arms and leaned back against the medic’s counter, waiting a long moment before he said, “What was that about?” 

Ben shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes. Karrde waited until the teenager, still radiating a sullen reluctance, began to speak.

“He said something about me being an—an _Imp_." He paused, and then continued, with a grudging: "I shouldn’t have taken it personally.” 

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Karrde doubted that whoever had thrown the slur had expected it to hit the mark so effectively. That word, and many others, could be thrown around in the heat of an argument by anyone, but he suspected that it wasn’t aimed at Ben by chance. “Is there a reason that they called you an Imp?”

Ben suddenly became fascinated with the patterns on the med center floor, his jaw working as he clenched his teeth.

“Ben?” 

He finally mumbled, “they were Pormfil’s friends. I think he said something to them.”

“And why would he do that?” 

Ben lifted a shoulder. Karrde waited.

“Promfil,” he finally said, “doesn’t like me. He does—he says stuff sometimes.”

“Did this start before or after Delrakkin?”

Ben thought it over. “Before.”

Then it was less likely that Promfil's behavior was tied to Jedi prejudice and more likely it was just simple jealousy. He would speak to Dankin about it and ask if there had been any other physical incidents that could be liked back to Promfil. He doubted Ben had said anything to Dankin, but someone might have noticed something. He was sure that the other pilot would have stood up for Ben, and he would have heard about the whole thing sooner. 

“It hasn’t been anything that bad,” Ben said, as though he needed to make some sort of excuse or reassurance. “Just comments, and you know, locking me out of the base—small stuff like that.” Ben snorted, an unimpressed look on his face. He looked very much like his mother in that moment. Karrde supposed that once one faced down Darth Vader, this sort of petty behavior couldn’t compare. But Ben was also a junior member of the crew, and only a teenager, and Pormfil was a grown man.

“I won’t tolerate my crew undermining each other,” he told Ben. “It won’t happen again.”

Ben nodded, obviously relieved.

“Nonetheless, you shouldn’t have taken his bait. Your father was a hero of the Rebel Alliance and your mother is one of the figureheads of the New Republic. No one actually doubts you or your family’s allegiance.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said quietly. “Sorry.”

“Does this have to do with the fact that Vader was your grandfather?”

Ben’s jaw dropped and his head shot up. “How—how did—Mom _told_ you about that? Mom doesn’t tell _anyone_ about that.”

Karrde certainly hoped he wasn’t just _anyone_ to Mara, although it was true that there was much about her past that she still hadn’t shared with him.

“Your mother put me in charge of the relief programs on Honorghr. They call you the second-son of Vader there, you know.”

It wasn’t something the Noghri told  _anyone_ either _,_ but he’d worked on Honorghr long enough to have heard the whispers. Mara had given him a few more details since then, and he knew enough about the boy's heritage to guess at why the slur had hurt.

“Oh. Yeah. They have kind of the wrong idea about Vader there.”

“So I gathered.”

Ben’s heritage was complicated, and Karrde was the last person who could set an example when it came to familial obligations and inheritance.

“Meena…” Ben sighed. “She doesn’t understand, not really. She doesn’t know how it was like when it was just me and mom.”

Karrde remembered those days, though he’d only glimpsed them as an outside observer, and only when Mara had allowed it. He blinked, hit with the realization that during those rough, lonely years he had been the only other constant in the boy’s life, albeit a distant one.

In that light, Ben’s flight to the _Wild Karrde_ was less of a teenage whim than it had first appeared.

“Mom thinks I should talk about it with someone. A therapist or something.” Ben picked at the edge of the table. He began to speak again, haltingly. “Vader killed my dad, you know. My—my _grandfather_ killed my dad. He hunted us when I was a little kid, and turned me and my mom over to the Emperor… and then he saved us. But we almost died. I don’t know what to think about it.”

Karrde recalled nights when Mara would jerk out of sleep, shouting incoherently and blindly lashing out. The only phrase he could comprehend was _Vader, Vader, Vader._ She was pale and shaking in his arms as she finally settled down again. In the mornings, she would be tight-lipped and distant and he was at a loss as to how to comfort her. 

“Mom had this thing with dad, it’s called a Force bond—it’s like this connection through the Force. It’s hard to explain but it’s like...like something got broken inside mom when he died. I can still feel that. She feels different from other Jedi in the Force, and it’s not just because she’s a Jedi Master. I don’t even know what my dad was like, but I wish he hadn’t died because… of what it did to my mom.”

“I’m not trying to replace your father, Ben.”

“No, that’s not what I meant!” Horror, confusion, and frustration all moved across Ben’s face. “It’s just that she likes you, and she doesn’t like a lot of people. People that aren’t Jedi, I mean. I… guess what I mean is you make her seem less broken, sometimes.”

“I… I appreciate that, Ben.”

Karrde had never thought to ask for Ben’s blessing concerning his relationship with Mara, and he never expected to be as touched by the gesture as he was. He had, in some ways, kept his distance from Ben, not really knowing how to handle the teenager, and keeping Mara’s words in mind about letting Ben “find his own way.” There were also issues of maintaining his authority as Ben’s boss, at least in front the crew, though he suspected that that particular posturing had been bought by absolutely no one.

“When I was little,” Ben went on, “she used to tell me stories about my dad all the time. About how he ran away from Tatooine and blew up the Death Star and became this hero. But he’s just a story, you know?” Ben struggled helplessly. 

“I think that’s probably better than never knowing,” Karrde said. “Or only having few white lies to go on.” The galaxy was full of war orphans who would never know their parents at all, who would be forever chasing vague stories about freighter pilots or rebel soldiers.

“I guess.” Ben sounded unconvinced. “You won’t say anything about this to anyone?”

“Of course not. We don't want to worry Meena.”

Ben rolled his eyes as stood. “She worries too much.”

“She’s your clan cousin,” he said as he escorted Ben out of the medical wing. “That’s her job.” 

When had it become his job too?

 

\- -

 

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “You have a bad feeling about everything, Meena.”

Meena muttered something unflattering under her breath in Noghri. “I _don’t_ worry about _everything.”_

“Don’t worry about this,” Ben said.

“You’re talking about stealing from a bounty hunter!” That sounded like  _plenty_ to worry about, Meena thought.

“Yeah, kid,” Dankin said, “That sounds like a pretty big play to me.”

Chin wagged a finger at them. “Not so smart, tangling with Trask, hai.” 

Ben gave the two smugglers a look that said he wasn’t impressed by their input. Various members of the _Wild Karrde’s_ crew were sprawled on couches and booths in a semi-private lounge on the Blue Level of the _Errant Venture,_ standing by until Karrde officially cut them loose to eat and play in the ship’s casinos.

They’d spotted the bounty hunter Trask not long after they’d docked. He had just been one of many smugglers, bounty hunters, gamblers, and pleasure seekers who frequented and did business on Booster Terrik’s eccentric shadowport. Trask wore a helmet that masked his face, which made it hard to identify his species, but he smelled like a Mirialan to Meena. None of the other members of the crew had given him a second glance, but Ben had immediately taken note of the astromech droid in Trask’s possession. 

The droid in question was a BB-series astromech droid that rolled along at Trask’s heels, its spherical body painted white with red and blue highlights. Ben had taken issue with boxy-looking non-regulation restraining device that had been fitted to the droid’s side. 

“That kind of restraining device is illegal for a reason!” Ben had told the crew. He hadn’t stopped ranting about it since they’d first spotted Trask.

 _Illegal_ didn’t mean much in this place, Meena thought. 

“It disrupts a droid’s cognitive functions! It’s cruel!”

The crew had all seemed to be amused by Ben’s outrage, but Meena knew that Ben was deadly serious.

“And you’re just going to break into a smuggler’s rooms and boost his personal droid?” Dankin asked.

“Yeah, I am.” 

Dankin and Chin exchanged glances. “Bounty hunters tend to be pretty paranoid. He’s probably locked his room down pretty tight.”

“Please, I’ve been picking locks since I was five.”  

“I already have access to Booster’s security system,” Ghent said offhand. “If that’s helpful?”

“Do you have access to the security holos?” Ben asked.

“Oh sure,” the slicer said. “Did you want to look at those?”

“Yes!”

In no time, they had a slew of datapads laid out on a table, each running a different set of holos that tracked Trask’s progress across the _Errant Venture_ throughout the day. Ghent had also projected a map of the Blue Level above the table so that they could check the location of each of the security holos.

“See, he left the BB unit in his room—” Ben checked the timestamp. “An hour ago. Where is he now?”

Meena studied the map as Ghent and Ben searched for the bounty hunter. She had looked at a map of the Errant Ventured decks before setting foot on the ship, but she hadn’t studied the Blue Level in detail until now.

“He’s still the gambling hall over here.” Ghent pointed. 

“And his room is here, on the other side of Trader’s Alley. It’s perfect. We just sneak in and get out before he gets back.”

“Really, kid? You’re going through with this?” Dankin asked. “You really think you can do this on your own?”

“You’re not going without me!” Meena said. She might have serious doubts about the entire operation, but there was no way she was letting Ben go on his own.

“You don’t have to go, Meena,” Ben said. “I can do it myself.”

Meena scoffed. “Do you think you can stop me?”

Ben beamed at her.

 

Trader’s Alley was a cacophony of sound and smell.

Every species on the floor gave off a distinctive scent and all jammed together in a space like Trader’s Alley, the assault on her senses was almost overwhelming. With a human’s stunted sense of smell, Ben didn’t even notice, but as always he sensed her state of mind and paused to wait as she gathered herself. She let the Force steady her, and then followed him into the bazaar. 

He led the way through the rows of vendors packed into the large hall, past booths selling strange items from far-flung planets and stalls selling every ship component imaginable, second-hand and probably stolen. Ben gave the booth selling droids of questionable provenance a dark look but moved on. Meena found herself pressing closer to him as they passed a set of cigarra stalls, the foul-selling smoke hanging thick in the air. This wasn’t exactly what she had in mind when they landed on the _Errant Venture_.

“You’re so stubborn,” she complained. She dodged under the arm of a large Duros who was gesticulating as he walked along the booths. “The Capt—Karrde—thinks it’s going to get you into big trouble one of these days.” Like the sort of trouble that came from angering a dangerous bounty hunter.

“That’s what Healani said too,” Ben said, and then muttered, “Before she dumped me.”

“I don’t want to hear about your girlfriends,” Meena grumbled. “Or your boyfriends.” 

Ben ignored that, but after a minute said, “Tasakian on the _Dawn Beat_ likes you.”

“What?” Meena asked, aghast.

“He does!”

She didn’t know what to think about that. Tasakian was always very nice when he saw her in the cafeteria…

“You’re just trying to distract me!”

“You’re stubborn too!” Ben said. “You didn’t have to come along!”

They ducked down an alley selling luxury fabrics, past long swaths of exotic silk, to the very last row of booths on edge of Trader’s Alley. The noise level dropped as they left the Alley, having reached the section of the floor that had been converted into furnished rooms that passengers could rent for as long as they needed to frequent the bazaar and casinos. Coded colors led them through the halls until they entered the corridor that held Trask’s room, and then they loitered in the hall until an inebriated Rodian couple had weaved their way out of sight and the corridor was empty—if only temporarily. 

Ben made quick work of the locks—as he’d promised earlier that night—and the door slid open, the lights flickering on as they stepped over the threshold. There were a few bags propped in a corner and a bottle of liquor on the table; the bed was undisturbed. The BB astromech unit, which had been sitting silently by the table, beeped as they entered and slid its domed head back to look up at them. 

“Hey there, little guy,” Ben said, dropping to a knee in front of the BB unit, which burbled at him in binary. “We’re here to help. Lemme that a look at that thing.” He continued to speak soothingly to the BB unit as he began to work on removing the restraining device.

Meena paced the room as Ben worked. It seemed to take forever and she becoming increasingly on-edge. “Are you done—”

Ben’s head snapped up. “He’s coming.” 

Meena hadn’t sensed Trask approaching until she reached out through the Force to double check the corridors, and even then it took her a minute to identify the bounty hunter among all the various beings coming and going. Ben had inherited his mother’s uncanny sense of danger, sensing the threat long before she felt the Force shiver through her. 

Ben redoubled his efforts, finally prying the device free at the same time Meena sensed Trask turn down the corridor toward his room.

“Kriff,” Ben muttered, surging to his feet. “He’s close.” 

Meena didn’t think it would be possible for them to make a break for it down the corridor, not if they planned to take the droid with them. They both looked wildly around the room as if an answer would manifest itself in the few minutes they had before Trask returned.

“There!” She’d looked very carefully at the schematics that Ghent had provided for this particular room before they'd left. There was a hatch near the ceiling, partially obscured by a tacky wall hanging that led into a ventilation shaft that was just large enough to squeeze through. 

Ben boosted her up to the hatch and held her up as she worked to open the catch that held the hatch shut, and once it had given way, climbed into the crawlspace. Ben clambered in after her. Together, they used the Force to lift the BB-astromech up and through the opening, securing the hatch back in place just as the door to the room below opened. 

At the sound of the bounty hunter entering the room, the BB unit rolled backward in alarm, the motion making a loud rattling noise against the metal floor of the vent shaft. There was no way the sound hadn’t carried. 

“Shavit!” Ben hissed. “Back up, back up!”

Meena scrambled down the tunnel as fast as she could, the droid and Ben clattering behind her. She could sense Ben keeping a Force grip on the hatch which failed as Trask shot it off its hinges.

“Get around a corner!” Ben called.

“I’m trying!”

The vent shaft finally turned a corner, and then another. They continued to crawl forward until Meena saw an opening ahead. The shaft opened into a larger access tunnel, which was tall enough for them both to stand. They levered the BB unit into the tunnel, and stood, catching their breath.

“Did he follow us?” Meena asked.

Ben cocked his head to the side. “He tried to, but I think he got stuck. He’s turned back now. He’s probably gone to find someone or something to send after us.”

“We can’t go back that way.”

“Yeah.”

Meena had no idea where they were. When she’d studied the map of the bounty hunter’s room, she hadn’t made note of where the ventilation shafts _led._ The access tunnel ran in both directions, and after a short argument, they took the left corridor, the BB unit rolling along at their heels. A little way down the tunnel, she found a series of symbols printed at intervals along the walls, and although she didn’t have a key to the codes, they tried to work out how the system was used to guide workers through the access tunnels, but without much success.

“Let’s follow this one,” Ben said finally, pointing to blue triangular shape with a red star splashed over it.

Meena couldn’t think of a better suggestion, and so they followed the trail deeper into the _Errant Venture,_ turning at every corner emblazoned with the blue-triangle-red-star. Finally, Ben came to halt and pointed at the final symbol in the trail. Meena looked in dismay at the ventilation shaft hatch set halfway up the side of the tunnel’s wall, the symbol printed right in the center of the hatch.

“Might as well,” Ben sighed.

Together they hoisted the BB unit into the vent. It rolled ahead, chirping happily as Ben gave her a boost into the shaft and climbed in after her. This vent shaft seemed smaller and more cramped, and Meena instantly regretted their choice to follow those particular symbols and almost suggested they turn back.

But Ben was crowding the space behind her and the only thing she could do was move forward, to follow the BB unit down the tunnel. There was a thunk ahead of her as the BB unit hit the hatch on the far end of the tunnel, and then made plaintive, whirring sounds as the exit didn’t give way.

“Hang on,” Meena said, trying squeeze around the droid to open the hatch. “Oof!” The restless droid rocked back and forth in the tunnel, squeezing her against the wall. She gave the hatch one last firm shove and it popped open, the sudden motion causing her and the droid to fall forward and spill out of the shaft into the room beyond.

“Meena!” she heard Ben shout from the shaft.

She looked up from the floor of the room where the blue-triangle-red-star had led them as Ben tumbled out of the hatchway as well. It was a spacious office, surfaces piled high with datapads and odds and ends, with a desk in the center of the room. A large man with a cybernetic eye was seated behind the desk. He raised an eyebrow as he looked down at them. Meena scrambled to her feet, opening her mouth to offer some sort of excuse—

“Karrde’s kids. Of course.” Booster Terrik shook his head and turned to key a code into his comm. He leaned back in his chair as the comm crackled to life, watching narrowly as Ben climbed to his feet beside Meena, the droid rolling behind his legs.

“Terrik?” the voice over the comm asked.

“Karrde,” Booster boomed, “I’ve got some unclaimed property of yours up in my office here.”

There was a pause.

“I’ll come and pick them up.”

Booster laughed as the line disconnected. “You want a drink, kids?” He gestured at a pair of chairs in front of the desk. 

“Triple-layer Black Nebula,” Ben said without hesitation.

Booster snorted. “Not on your life, kid.”

They sat. Booster wandered over to a hutch and poured two glasses of something amber-colored, and then plunked them down in front of her and Ben before returning to the chair behind his desk.

“Now what the hell were you doing in my vents?”

“The bounty hunter Trask had this droid fitted with an illegal restraining device,” Ben said. “We were just liberating it.”

“Stealing from my guests, huh?” Booster didn’t seem particularly upset and she thought he was more offended by the fact that they’d snuck around his access tunnels. He leaned back his chair again. “And you used my ventilation shafts for a getaway—well, it’s ballsy, I’ll give you that. But I won’t stand for just anyone sneaking around in my ship. I don’t care who your mother is. Do you understand?”

They nodded.

“We’re keeping the droid,” Ben said.

Booster glanced over at the BB unit and shrugged. “Sure.”

Any other comment he intended to make was interrupted by Karrde’s arrival.

“Karrde! Look what was crawling around in my access tunnels!” He gestured toward them.

“I’m sorry if they were any trouble—”

“No trouble at all.” Booster grinned. “They were simply _liberating_ a bounty hunter’s private property! I don’t think that’s how normal teenagers behave, but hell, what the kriff do we know about normal teenagers?”

Karrde looked down at the BB unit, which rolled back to look up at him. He didn’t seem angry either.

“Can I keep it?” Ben asked.

“Fine,” Karrde said. “But it’s your responsibility.”

Booster slapped the table and laughed uproariously as though Karrde had made some sort of joke. They all stared at him, blankly.

“You’re kriffed, Karrde,” he finally said. “Now get the hell out of my office, the lot of you.”

 

\- -

 

The comm in his office aboard the _Wild Karrde_ buzzed, and Karrde opened the line absently, still reading the report that he had open in front of him. The minute they had docked on Ord Mantell, the _Drang_ had sent him a garbled transmission from Hutt Space that he was still trying to make sense of; he suspected that it had been corrupted beyond his slicers ability to decipher, and while that wasn’t a reason for worry, since it happened from time to time, he did want to get the issue straightened out before they left the planet.

Aves’s voice crackled over the line. “Boss, better get down here. The kids were jumped in the lower levels. We brought Meena back, but she got pretty roughed up.”

“Ben?”

“They took him. Meena says he’s still alive, but we haven’t found them yet.”

Karrde found them in the medical bay, where Annowiskri was patching up Meena’s side, which looked as though it had been battered by a set of heavy boots. Aves stood by the door, looking grim. Meena was moaning softly in pain as the medic worked.

“Ben!” she cried out when she saw him, “they took Ben!”

“I know Meena, Aves told me.” To Annowiskri he asked, “Will she need to be put in a bacta tank?”

Annowiskri hissed through his teeth, not looking up from his work. “No. Topical bacta will work, but she will need a lot of rest. She should not be put back to work until my say-so.”

Karrde sat down on the edge of the medical cot and took her hand. She gripped it tightly, but it seemed to calm her enough to gather herself and report. “What happened, Meena?”

“We were just walking through the trade sector—and we cut through this alley and they came out of nowhere and grabbed Ben. They went for his lightsaber before he could stop them, and then they hit him with something that knocked him out. I don’t know what it was—a syringe, or venom, I don’t know!”

“It’s alright, Meena, there’s no way you could have known. What happened next?”

“They—they said something like, _this is what happens to Jedi._ I don’t think they knew I was a Jedi, too. One of them came up behind me and knocked me down and they started kicking me—”  She whimpered again, and Annowiskri hissed at her to stop moving.

“Can you tell anything about them?”

“There were five, no, six. All men. They were human, they were _all_ human, and Hapan—they had Hapan accents.”

“Thank you, Meena.” He squeezed her hand gently. “That was very helpful.”

“Will you be able to find him?”

“We will.”

The world sharpened into tight focus as something hard and cold inside him took charge.

“Aves,” he called. His lieutenant was still standing by the door. “Have Ghent slice into whatever surveillance the sector police have installed in the area, and get a list of any ships leaving port.”

“On it, Captain.”

“Meena, you need to listen to Annowiskri and rest,” he said. She nodded miserably. “We’ll find him.”

The atmosphere was tense on the _Wild Karrde’s_ bridge. Dankin and H’sishi swiveled around to watch him as he stepped onto the deck, already seated at their stations and ready to spring into action. Aves was hunched over his console, arguing with someone on the ground. He twisted to pass a datapad to Karrde without looking up from his station.

Karrde quickly reviewed the information being transmitted to the datapad. Ghent’s slicing team had already gained access to the sector police network and was sifting through any data that might be relevant—though there wasn’t much to find. A few holos of a group of hooded men dragging Ben away toward the docks only confirmed what Meena had already told them. He felt a flare of pride for his crew’s swift and competent response, which soured at the thought of how they’d failed their youngest members.

“Their ship just left port,” Aves said, muting his commas for a moment. “Fake name, fake registered hyperspace route. They could be going anywhere.”

“Dankin, H’sishi,” Karrde said. “Prep the _Wild Karrde_ and prepared to leave on my signal.”

He’d failed Mara. Her children had been attacked and kidnapped under his care. Whoever had done this—some petty rival smuggler or minor Hutt—would regret it. The arrogance and stupidity to think that by taking one of his crew they would be able to… No—the comment about Ben being a Jedi changed everything.

Something Calrissian had said drifted back to the front of his mind. Bottan. In an increasingly destabilized Consortium, they were still fanatically loyal to Ta’a Chume on Bottan, and to her mother before her…

This wasn’t about his territory all, he realized, this was the work of fanatics: the Ni'Korish. They had worshiped the former Queen Mother, and blamed the Jedi for the deterioration of Hapes. Calrissian had warned him, and he hadn’t picked up on the hint.

Lorell’s second, Dnell, who revered the Queen Mothers, he was from Bottan—Karrde would place money on it. Dnell, who had recognized Ben, or at least, had been told who he was by his loose-lipped captain and knew where the _Wild Karrde_ docked when it toured the Inner Rim.

“Chart a course to the Hapes Cluster—” No, there was no way they would be able to find the pirate ship once it reached the Transitory Mists. They had to cut them off before then, at some waypoint in between Point Nadir and the Cluster. Most ships would stop to refuel before they made the final hyperspace jump. It was only a matter of figuring out where the pirates went to refuel, out of the hundreds of ports between Port Nadir and Hapes.

“I can help find him!” Meena burst onto the deck. She was tailed by an irritated-looking Annowiskri.

“Meena, you should be in the med bay—”

“Please, Captain, let me try! I can use the Force to search!”

“She should be resting!” Annowiskri protested.

“Please, Captain!”

He had promised Ben he would listen to her the next time. Without another word, he brought up a map of the quadrant, expanding the holo so that it drifted before them, a spiderweb of soft blue light hanging in the air.

She took a heaving breath and let her eyes drift halfway shut. There was no other signal that she began, no indication that some magic force was at work, but the entire crew flew silent and waited while she worked.

Minutes passed before she opened her eyes, and when she did, the look of anguish she wore when she’d entered the bridge hadn’t faded. She gestured to a section of the quadrant, a large sweep of space that held a dozen viable spaceports. “Over there, I think,” her voice thick with frustration. She heaved a sobbing breath. “I can’t do any better.”

“Meena,” he put a hand on her shoulder. “You did the best you could do. We’ll find him.”

He scanned the map, listing the ports over in his head, hoping that something would jump out at him. None of the spaceports had an obvious connection to Hapes; they were all nondescript fueling areas, the sort of places that were perfect for smuggling cargo…

“Meena,” he said slowly, “do you remember the recent revisions to D’ukal’s route?” He hadn’t studied it lately, because he’d had Meena working through those reports for him.

She looked up. “Yes, Captain.”

If Dnell and the other Ni’Korish were all members of Lorell’s crew, then they might stick to routes that were familiar. Pirates had no imagination.

“What’s the second to last stop before she reaches the hand-off point in the asteroid belt?”

“Ossillus,” Meena said without hesitation, staring up at the map.

He pointed. Ossillus, right on the edge of the quadrant she’d selected.

“Dankin, chart a course for Ossillus,” he said. “Aves, contact Ossillus ground control and instruct them to dock the ship in a private bay that only we can access.” He couldn’t recall if they had anyone planted in Ossillus. “I’ll approve any amount required for the bribes. Pay to have a clean-up crew ready as well. Meena, please get back to the med bay. We can take it from here.”

After Annowiskri had escorted her away, H’sishi approached him.

[I wish to sit with Meena until we arrive,] H’sishi said, her tone indicating that it was a request rather than a statement.

“I think she’d like that,” Karrde said. “But you don’t have to ask my permission.”

[Oh,] H’sishi sound surprised, [I thought permission was required to visit someone’s clan-children under medical care.]

“She isn’t my clan-child,” he said.

[But she is your clan? Is there different etiquette for clan members?]

“Never mind.” It wasn’t worth spending the time sorting through the details of this particular misunderstanding. “You have my permission.” He was touched by her concern for Meena, and wouldn’t have stood in the way regardless.

He sent a message to Mara before they made the leap to hyperspace, not waiting for her reply. He’d comm her later and speak to her face to face, but he hoped that they’d have good news for her first.

When they arrived at Ossillus they were informed by an eager-to-please ground control that the pirates had landed a few hours ago and been quarantined in an isolated dock—the bribe Aves had paid them must have been substantial. Dankin landed the Wild Karrde in the same dock, on the landing pad right next to the kidnapper’s ship.

It was Lorell’s ship. Though he’d guessed at Dnell’s involvement, he hadn’t assumed that Lorell had been involved, and was disconcerted at how badly he’d misjudged Lorell’s character.

The ship’s boarding ramp was already lowered, and a body of a Hapan man in a red jacket lay at the foot of the ramp.

“Still alive,” Dankin reported as he checked the unconscious man.

“Take him away,” Karrde said. “We’ll have someone to question later.”

“There isn’t supposed to be anyone else here,” Aves said. “Ground crew confirmed that the dock was sealed before the ship landed.”

“So it’s either mutiny or someone else was waiting for them.” There was no way this wouldn’t be messy, but a potential third party was a variable he hadn’t planned for.

The quiet aboard the ship was made eerie by the fact that it was unexpected; they were braced for a counter-attack as they boarded but none came. They passed another body slumped in the entryway to a galley, marked by irregular burn patterns.  

[Someone else is hunting here,] H’sishi said.

Blaster fire cracked through the air and they ducked as a series of bolts spat toward them from the direction of the galley.

[They don’t like being hunted,] H’sishi bared her teeth in a frightening grin.

H’sishi returned fire as they cleared the corner, forcing the shooter to scramble back in an attempt to take cover. He didn’t make it. Another figure swept in from the opposite hall, and the pirate spun toward her, blaster firing wildly.

A bright green blade flashed through the air, and pirate’s blaster—and the hand attached to it—flew across the room. He screamed until H’sishi stunned him into silence.

Mara crouched over the body of the stunned pirate, checking his vitals and then stripping him of his secondary blaster, which she handed over to H’sishi. When she finished she rose and finally met his eye. She was dressed in what he thought of as the Jedi combat uniform, sleek and black, her green lightsaber shimmering at her side.

“You got here quickly,” he said. He hadn’t even told her where they were headed, on the off-chance the message was intercepted.

“I was already on-planet when I got your message,” she said, curt and professional. “We’ve been tracking the Ni’Korish for months, and an informant told us that they docked here on their way to Hapes. I thought I’d check it out. Is Meena alright?”

“She’s fine.”

 _I’m sorry,_ he thought. _I failed you._  

She broke eye contact, turning her head back in the direction she’d come from. “They have Ben in the hold,” she said.

“After you,” he said, with a touch of mock deference. A humorless smile cracked her grim expression as she took the lead, the green lightsaber a shield in front of them.

The five remaining pirates had decided to make a last stand behind a barricade of crates. Karrde winced as his crew returned fire, the blaster bolts screaming back and forth. Eventually, they’d wear down or pick off the pirates, but it would take time—

And then Mara stepped out from the relative safety of the corridor. She seemed to glide across the hold, deflecting blaster bolts effortlessly, almost as though she was performing the steps of a formal dance in a Coruscanti ballroom, rather than in the middle of a close-range firefight. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

In only a few minutes, it was over.

Two of the kidnappers had been killed in the firefight and Mara had taken out a third and disarmed the final two. Dnell was one of the corpses. H’sishi was only too happy to take the other two prisoners, and neither Karrde nor Mara objected to her rough treatment of the men.

 _Where was Ben_ _—_

He’d barely finished the thought as Mara spun around and flew across the room to a large sealed crate. The lid burst off its hinges as though yanked off by an invisible hand and clattered to the floor. Ben tumbled out of the crate and into her arms.

“Mom!” He slurred the word, still obviously under the effect of the knockout drug. Karrde could see the wisdom in keeping a Jedi drugged for the duration of the trip, but it made him want to do something cruel to the surviving kidnappers.

“Ben,” he heard Mara breathe into her son’s hair, the rest of her words muffled and meant only for her son.

“Is he alright?” He asked, keeping a respectful distance.

“I’m f-f-fine,” Ben said as he tried to struggle to his feet with his mother’s help.

“Mistress Jedi Ma’am?” Dankin asked, fumbling over the address. “Let me help.” He helped Ben up, and let the teenager lean on his shoulder as he stumbled across the hold.

“Over—over—there—that!” Ben pointed toward another crate, his attempt to lurch toward it halted by the arm Dankin had around his waist.

Karrde stepped toward the crate that Ben had indicated, levering the lid open after he’d shot off the lock. Lorell’s body was stuffed inside, his chest a mess of blaster burns. So Lorell hadn’t gone along with his crew’s kidnapping plans after all, and had been betrayed. What a waste.

Ben bumped into Karrde as he leaned over and dug around beside the body, pulling out his lightsaber, which he clumsily hooked back onto his belt. Karrde looked at Mara, saw her already pinched expression tighten further at seeing her former lightsaber on Ben’s belt, but she didn’t say anything.

[What do we do with them?] H’sishi indicated the two living kidnappers. [The clean-up crew will be here soon to dispose of the bodies.]

Karrde looked over at Mara. He had planned a series of unpleasant fates for the entire crew, but he suspected that he wouldn’t get that satisfaction. “It’s your call,” he told her.  

She left Ben’s side and stepped closer to her son’s kidnappers. The taller of the two, dark-haired and wearing a red shirt, visibly flinched under her gaze.

“Jedi Witch!” he hissed. “We are Ni’Korish! We know the truth! The Jedi are behind the poison that rots the great kingdom of Hapes!”

“So you decided to kidnap a Jedi. Big mistake.” Mara gave them a cold smile. “Did you really think that you could take my son and get away with it?”

It was probably wrong how attractive he found her right now.

“Force-welders are abominations,” the black-haired man screamed. “They must all die!”

H’sishi cuffed him and he fell to his knees. [Enough of that.]

“We can finish them off for you,” Aves said.

“No,” Mara said. “It would be best if they stood for their crimes in court. As much as I’d like it to be otherwise.” Her face was still hard, expressionless. “The Jedi must be seen to operate above-board, especially when dealing with a personal threat. People need to see that.”

“Alert the authorities,” Karrde told Aves. “Make sure that they know  _exactly_ what to do with our prisoners. No escapes or unexpected deaths.”

“Thank you,” Mara said.

“I’ll take him—” Dankin tilted his head toward Ben. “And you—to the med bay, ma’am? Meena’s there, and I’m sure she’d like to see you.”

He could see the mask slip, just a little. “Yes, thank you,” she said.

He left Mara to comfort her children.

She found him in his office, later. He had been staring blankly at the datapads on his desk for the last ten minutes, exhaustion seeping in as the adrenaline drained out of his system.

She stood in the doorway for a moment, examining him with a soft expression on her face before she came and leaned into him, finally allowing him a chance to wrap his arms around her as she nestled her head under his chin, her slender body fitting up against his. Mara has such _presence_ that he often forgot what a small woman she was until he held her in his arms. _Too small…_

“Have you been eating, Mara?”

“Not enough,” she sighed, continuing dryly, “I always forget to eat whenever I’m hunting down fanatics who have kidnapped my children.”

“I’ll make you something,” he said absently.  

“Surro stew?” It was the first meal he’d ever made for her. He wasn’t much more than a competent cook, and never had the time to practice anyway, but Mara seemed to hold his limited abilities in high regard. She gave him a lopsided smile.

“I think I can do better than that,” he said. He guided her to the chair beside his desk and she sank into it with a relieved sigh.

“You’ve already done enough,” she said.

“Ben was kidnapped under my watch,” he said tightly. He leaned back against the desk.

“And you found him again,” she said, reaching out to catch his hand, twining their fingers together.

“It shouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

Mara made a soft _tsking_ sound. “Talon, the world isn’t a safe place for Jedi, it’s never been. Those who want to kill us don’t operate on the same rules of the Fringe.” Her mouth tightened. “You know if they’d run to anyone else in the galaxy I would have come after them. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to keep them safe and bring them home again.”

He gave her tight nod in acknowledgment.

She stroked the back of his hand, her expression gentling. “Remember what I said about worrying?”

He ran a hand down his face. “They aren’t my children.”

Mara snorted. “Are you sure about that? I think Meena’s decided that you’re their clan-father now.”

He shook his head. “I’m too old for this.”

There had been a time when he had wanted more from Mara, when he had unsuccessfully tried to draw her into his world. He’d always let her set the terms of their relationship, learning to be satisfied with the small tendrils of trust and affection she occasionally extended toward him. In the last few years, they’d fallen into a comfortable arrangement, formed in the limited space of holo calls and assignations whenever their schedules overlapped.

But it was still a relationship in which he still stood politely outside of her tight-knit family, an interloper in her world. To be invited in—by her children—that was… unexpected.

“They’re going back with you,” he said. It wasn’t a question, although he wanted her to confirm it.

“Yes, they’re coming home. They both want to finish their training and stand their trials for knighthood.”

“Good,” he said. “Chin will be inconsolable.”

She laughed softly and drew his hand to her face, ghosting her lips across the knuckles. He turned his hand, cupping her face as she smiled up at him, his thumb brushing across her cheek. As tempting as she was—he let his hand drop.

“Those pirates aren’t New Republic citizens,” he said. “It won’t be as simple as prosecuting a case of kidnapping.”

She sighed, letting her gaze drop. “I know. I don’t like it either.”

“I’m not letting a threat to the Jedi slip away.” There was ice in his voice, but Mara didn’t flinch. “I’ll hunt down every last one of the Ni’Korish if I have to.”

She lifted her head again and looked at him steadily. “Talon, I don’t know what the extent of your business is in Hapes, but I doubt you—even you—have that much pull in-system.”  

“And what would you propose?”

“I’ve reached out to Ta’a Chume and requested an audience to discuss the Ni’Korish. These are her people, after all. There wouldn’t be a need to hunt them down if she could take care of the problem internally.”

“And you’re confident that the Queen Mother will listen? That she even has that kind of influence?”

“I know you don’t like it, but this is how the Jedi work. We negotiate.”

Negotiation was largely the bulk of his job these days as well, but there was something to be said for the efficiency of Fringe justice.

“We could use your help gathering intelligence,” she continued. “We’ll pay you for it—”

“No.” Any scrap of intelligence he found on the Ni’Korish was already hers.

She reached out a caught his hand again. “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft. “I’ve missed you.”

He wanted to curl up at her feet but he pulled her to hers instead, slipping his arms around her again and sighing into her hair. He liked having her here in his arms.

“I’ve missed you too.”

 

\- -

 

The setting sun slanted through the windows of the sunroom in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, casting a warm glow on the gathering taking place there. The room had been designed to serve as a space for small celebrations held after the knighting ceremonies, and that evening it was filled with a crowd of well-wishers.

Most of the post-knighting celebrations had been private, quiet affairs, attended by the new Jedi Knight’s family and the other members of the still-small Temple community. The party that followed the knighting of Meena and Ben Skywalker was a different matter.

All the Jedi were in attendance, of course, as well as the Solo clan and the family’s extended network of friends. So was the entire crew of the _Wild Karrde_ , as well as a number of other members of Karrde’s organization who had managed to wrangle a place on the ship in order to attend. It was the first celebration in the Temple in which the Jedi were outnumbered by smugglers. The smugglers had set up a bar in the corner of the room—not a standard feature of most Jedi gatherings—and offered generous servings to all the guests.

It had been fifteen Coruscanti months since Meena had seen the crew. Those months had sped by in a blur of training and _practice, practice, practice,_ before she and Ben were ready to stand the trials for knighthood.

Karrde had visited Coruscant twice in that time—flying in a small ship of his own—and had stayed at their home in the Temple. He was starting to behave like a proper clan father these days.

She straightened the hem of the new robes that had been made for the occasion, standing as tall as her limited height would allow. Chin had also presented her with what he had thought consisted of a set of Jedi robes, which she had accepted solemnly, though she couldn’t think of a situation in which she would wear them. A few of other smugglers had offered gifts, though some of the gifts had been more appropriate than others.

Karrde had presented her with his gift on the day that she and Ben had left Point Nadir.

“This is to thank you for all of your hard work,” he had told her, handing her a small package. “It’s going to be very difficult to find someone to replace you.”   

With a gasp, she had held up the gift—the outer casing for a lightsaber, perfectly designed to fit her hand. “Thank you, Captain,” Meena said in an awed voice.

"She's my favorite adopted daughter," Karrde had said to Mara.

Mara had rolled her eyes. “You don’t have any others.”

Her clan mother given her the crystal that was the heart of the lightsaber; the assembly of the weapon was a part of her final test. The blade had proven a pure blue, a match to her cousin’s inherited blade. She now wore the lightsaber at her side with pride. 

She watched as her clan mother moved through the crowd, greeting friends and chatting with family members; the center of everything in her role as the head of the Jedi order. Karrde was never far from her side, his hand gently resting on her lower back or drifting up to brush her shoulders or the back of her neck. He would be flying out with the crew the next morning.

She was momentarily distracted by a small commotion on the far side of the sunroom, where it looked like Jacen and Jaina had somehow upset a table, and Clan-Uncle-Solo was attempting to clear up the mess. By the time she looked back she realized that Karrde had crossed the room to speak to her.  

“You look very fine tonight, Meena,” he said. “Like a proper Jedi.”

“Thank you, Capt—Karrde. _Clan father.”_

His mouth twitched, as though he were holding back a smile—or maybe a grimace, she wasn’t sure. “What’s the Noghri word for “clan-father”?

Meena looked down at the tiled floor. “There isn’t one,” she admitted. “Clans are lead by the _Maitrakh,_ the clan mothers. There aren’t any clan fathers. It’s different from here.”  She barely remembered what it was like to have a birth father and mother _or_ a clan mother.

Karrde seemed to consider this, and though she couldn’t meet his eye, she knew he was watching her closely. “Thank you for allowing me to be your clan father, Meena. I’m honored.”

It was difficult not to squirm in the face of his undisguised pride, but she was a Jedi now, and she needed to act more _dignified_.

“Hey, clan-Dad,” Ben called from across the room where he and Dankin were huddled around a datapad, BB-12 rocking back and forth between them. “Come and look at this!”

Of course there were some Jedi that would _never_ be dignified.

Meena could tell that Karrde was nonplussed by Ben’s new nickname, even if all he did was raise an eyebrow.  

“Meena!” Ben hollered from the other side of the room again. “You need to see this too!”

He was being that obnoxious on purpose, she could just tell. She exchanged a look with Karrde; he knew it too.

“I suppose we’d better go then,” he said. He was definitely holding back a smile now.

 _“Meena!_ C’mon!”

She shared a put-upon sigh with her clan father, and crossed the room to join her cousin. 

 


End file.
